


Sacred Vows

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Culture, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blades, Comedy, Cultural Differences, Fights, Ice Cream, Knives, M/M, Play Fighting, Post-Canon, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Space Husbands, Sports, Traditions, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: It's a special day for Shiro and Ulaz, and they're spending it with a few close friends from the Blade of Marmora. Earth does have a lot to offer: cultural attractions, sports, fine cuisine. The Galra will experience it all! Yet as the touring party is shadowed by pursuers and engage in a series of escalating battles, their actions seem to be leading up to something more—Could it have something to do with love—or war? Knowing the Galra, it could beboth.[Written for Galra Reverse Bang, inspired by noogenesis' lovely art, which you canfind hereand alsoright here!]





	1. Human Festivities

"I'm tired of waiting," said Keith, glaring at the window. "They're not going to go away. We should go out."

Ulaz was not about to chastise him for impatience, because Keith had given voice to what he himself had been thinking. Ulaz joined Keith at the window, surveying the street below. A number of individuals had amassed there expectantly: almost ten of them now. There were only four Blades present, but they would be more than a match for this enemy. Defeating them wasn't the concern. The goal was evasion, not destruction. Combat would draw far too much negative attention. Attention was what they wanted to avoid, yet the longer they waited, the greater the chance that more adversaries would gather, and the more difficult evasion would become.

"We should leave through the front," said Keith. "Go right through them. I'm not afraid of them."

Kolivan's deeper voice interrupted. "It's not a matter of fear. It's a matter of practicality."

"It would be more practical to take the most direct exit," opined Krolia, unsurprisingly agreeing with her son. _The spark is like to its flame_ , as the old saying went.

Kolivan didn't object to them uniting against him. That was not unexpected from Keith and Krolia. He shrugged. "Ultimately, the final decision is not ours to make." He glanced at Ulaz meaningfully. Ulaz understood. The duty of choice had shifted to him. It was an honor, and one that had been granted to him because of the reason they were gathered here. Letting him take the lead wasn't a ritual, in the structured sense, but there was a ceremonial air to his leader's current deference toward him.

"We should avoid a confrontation," Ulaz decided.

"Fine," said Keith, exhaling with more than the usual force, but not objecting to the decision. He, too, understood that it was Ulaz's to make.

Ulaz sympathized with him. It was in the nature of Galra to prefer to confront a foe. Ulaz wasn't worried about a confrontation, as they would survive it unscathed, but he wanted to encounter minimal conflict now, considering what would come later.

"So that's decided," said Shiro. He had remained attentively neutral throughout this discussion among the Blades. He must have determined that the decision was best left to them. He was smiling faintly, and Ulaz suspected he was making some effort to suppress amusement. "If you'd rather use stealth, we can take another way." Now that they had made their decision, he was ready to support them. "I was thinking," he added, "we might also benefit from some extra equipment."

The "equipment" Shiro mentioned proved to be human-style tunics which were stored in a small room downstairs. "There must be some extra—extra ... extra large," said Shiro to himself, as he rifled through the shirts. "There. These look promising." He handed Ulaz one of the garments. Ulaz had learned to read a few human languages, to an extent, and he could tell that these shirts were printed with the words "Property Of Galaxy Garrison", in English. Ulaz obligingly pulled his shirt on, over his head. It was tight across his shoulders, but adequate. He had grown used to this soft and unstructured human traditional garb. He pulled up the cloth hood attached to the shirt's neck, finishing in time to turn and watch his fellow Blades do the same. 

Or, two of them did. Kolivan and Krolia had pulled on the tunics, but Keith shook his head. "I'm good." In that he was primarily human in appearance, he was less conspicuous the other Galra present.

For Kolivan, Krolia, and himself, the hoods were the most minimal form of disguise. Their height made them stand out among the population, and there were no accompanying masks to hide their faces. Most people here did not travel in masks, unless it was a special occasion, so wearing them would have drawn attention to them instead of having the desired result of hiding them.

"There's an underground tunnel in the basement that leads to the building next door," said Shiro. "It's not well known, so if we leave that way, we probably won't be noticed." They would escape through the back, like spies. That was fitting. Many Galra would have scorned avoiding a looming conflict, but Blades were familiar with the utility of stealth and avoidance.

"Calling it a basement tunnel is an exaggeration," admitted Shiro, as he led them down the stairs. "It's more like a regular hallway that happens to be in the basement, but the Garrison likes its alternate exits. Even in satellite offices."

Ulaz kept close to Shiro as he walked. Shiro's presence was a cause of pleasure, and closeness intensified the effect. Whenever Ulaz was near him, he didn't want to leave him. He walked almost close enough to touch him, but didn't quite reach out far enough to make contact. At times, a mere hair's breadth separated them. Shiro walked on without commenting on or reacting to Ulaz's closeness, neither pulling away nor moving to close the final gap between them. It was a challenge, of sorts, to remain so close without actually touching.

"Right," said Shiro, as he led them up into the new building. "The garage is this way. I have clearance to take a vehicle." He paused to survey them. "You four look—totally inconspicuous." His tone wasn't convincing, and Ulaz knew what he was thinking: this was not the finest example of the Blade of Marmora's stealth in action.

" _I_ look inconspicuous," said Keith.

"Yes. As I said. Very much so," Shiro agreed. He led them to the garage. The military vehicle was large enough for the five of them, and it shared their style of inconspicuousness, in that it hadn't been designed to stand out, but did so nonetheless. It had been made for humans, so it was a little small for Galra, but Ulaz had no complaint to make. Shiro climbed into the driver's seat, and Ulaz took the front passenger seat, while the others got into the back. Keith sat in the middle.

As they drove out of the garage, no one appeared to take notice of them. Military vehicles weren't an unusual sight, this close to the Garrison. The streets of Plaht City were busy at this time of day, and the sidewalks were crowded, as the citizens made their way to work. Ulaz watched Shiro as he drove. Shiro looked contented and at ease behind the controls as he directed the vehicle's smooth flight over the pavement.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Shiro asked. "We can do absolutely anything today."

"This is your Earth tradition. I'd like you to select what we do during this ceremony," said Ulaz. "To show us your customs."

"If that's what you want, that's what you'll get. These may not be the most esteemed and venerable Earth customs, but they'll be fun."

"Then show us your Earth fun," said Ulaz. "Although Keith must already know what that's like."

Keith did have the most varied experience of Earth culture, among the Galra assembled. Krolia, during her time here, had been obligated to hide herself away. "I'm not sure how I feel about Earth fun," said Keith. "It's—fine."

"We haven't had time to experience Earth culture as much as we'd like," said Kolivan. "There has been far too much to do. So consider this educational for us."

"I don't know if I'd call it educational—" Shiro began, then broke off. He was silent for a moment, studying the road ahead of him. Ulaz could see that an idea was occurring to him, although he did not know what it was. "You're right, Kolivan. It is going to be educational. Among other things."

"What does that mean?" asked Keith. When no reply was forthcoming, he asked, "Shiro? What does that mean? We talked about this. We had a plan."

Ulaz also didn't know what Shiro meant. He had asked Shiro to surprise him with the day's activities. That was fitting. He had often been surprised by Shiro, and he wanted today to be no different. He could remember when he had first seen Shiro: a strange alien, his face caked with blood from a cut on the side of his face. That particular cut didn't seem to have left a scar, but there had been many cuts after that, and so many of them had left their shadows behind. He could see some of them now, on Shiro's face, and on his left hand. Some were prominent, but others much more faint. He could detect the lightest ones because he knew where to look. Ulaz knew where to find them all.

The building Shiro pulled up to gleamed faintly in the sun, silvery in hue. It had an official solidity, which Ulaz appreciated. "The Aerospace Museum?" asked Keith.

"I thought it would be an interesting place for us to visit," Shiro replied.

"But they're from space. We went to space. We met them there." Keith sighed.

"True, but—Isn't it inspiring, how the people of each world get to space in their own individial way? The stories are so varied, but we're all headed for the same place. All reaching for the stars."

Ulaz understood that Keith was teasing his friend, just as he understood Shiro's objective in choosing this destination. "It's this history that explains how we were able to meet," Ulaz said.

Shiro brightened. "Exactly."

"I guess I can't complain about it then," Keith sighed again, but then he almost smiled.

Ulaz dutifully walked the corridors with the others. He examined the black and white photographs of smiling humans standing next to rudimentary aircraft. Some of those same rudimentary aircraft were on display in the accompanying galleries. There was an earnestness to the displays and their flat, factual plaques.

Despite Keith's teasing, his own closeness and attention to the exhibits indicated that he supported Shiro's choices on this day. Keith, though half Galra, had grown up in this culture, but Ulaz wondered what the other Galra thought about the museum. They had no such institutions chronicling their own early aerospace history, complete with artifacts. Those objects had all been destroyed, along with Daibazaal, along with the past. Granted, the Galra had become a spacefaring race long before the humans, so their artifacts would have been much, much older, but Ulaz enjoyed learning the history of this much younger species.

As Shiro had pointed out, it was thanks to the series of events recorded and celebrated here that Ulaz had been able to meet Shiro. Without the progression of technology and society that had led to the formation of the Galaxy Garrison, the war against the Galra Empire might have been lost. For those reasons alone, Ulaz would honor these humble beginnings. If he was able to look back through Galra history far enough, he would probably find craft that resembled these early propeller craft far more than they resembled contemporary Galra warships.

Ulaz kept close to Shiro's side. He was not surprised when Shiro finally closed the gap between them and slid his hand slid into Ulaz's grasp. He had grown used to the Earth custom of walking hand-in-hand. It was traditional among human pairs, in some cultures, and it pleased Ulaz to be part of that. As a partner, Shiro didn't treat him differently because of his species, unless he was altering his behavior specifically to respect Galra ways.

"Look at this!" Keith had moved ahead, and he turned back to beckon them on. Shiro and Ulaz quickened their pace without letting go of each other's hands. Shiro's hand felt small and smooth in his. His skin was warm.

The wing they entered had sustained severe structural damage, but it was bolstered by repairs, which had obviously been made to increase support without hiding the damage. Ulaz realized that this must have been part of the original building, which, like many in the city, had suffered during Sendak's assault on Earth. The museum had preserved this evidence of the attack, and it had used this repaired hall to house what looked to be a new exhibit of artifacts from the battle. Their own actions had now become history.

Wreckage from both Galra and Earth ships was displayed, alongside schematics for both. The walls were covered with images of the recent past. Ulaz stepped in front of these images, and the other Galra gathered around, taking up a semi-circle formation.

"Oh no—" said Shiro, staring up at his own portrait, which was gazing down upon them benevolently. "I didn't know this was here. I swear. Nobody told me."

"That's just like you," joked Keith. "You're such a show-off."

Ulaz, who was scanning the remainder of the hall, calmly told Keith, "Your portrait is over there." His gaze had been unavoidably caught by the scale models of the Voltron lions positioned just around the next turn, accompanied by large photographs of all the paladins. As one, they turned to regard the display. Silence fell, broken by Shiro suggesting, "Maybe we've had enough museum for one day."

Glancing toward the farther end of the hall, Ulaz picked out a few Earth words he knew, enough to ascertain that there were grimmer visions ahead: _memorial_ and _airstrike_ and _casualties _. Ulaz could tell by the bearing of his companions that they all felt a change in the air, although none of them spoke of it. It was not that they did not honor the dead, but they all carried their dead with them, each in their own personal ways. They did not need to see the dead presented by others, not in this unchosen moment.__

__Their actions today represented a human ceremony, as Ulaz understood it. It involved friends participating in a series of planned events together. It was much less structured and more flexible than a Galra ritual. A human ceremony like this could take many forms, but it was the spirit of the event that mattered. There was a warmth and ease to certain human traditions—as carried out by the humans he knew. Ulaz enjoyed the flexibility, even if he appreciated his own people's stern and focused observances. There was a majesty to the ancient Galra traditions, practiced as they were meant to be practiced—not warped as they had been by millennia of tyrannical rule. That rule had ended, and now the Galra could carry out their rituals as they wished—even, in some cases, blending them with the rituals of other cultures._ _

__As he left the museum with an embarrassed Shiro and Keith—and two Galra amused by that embarrassment, Ulaz studied the surrounding streets and ascertained that their party hadn't been followed or otherwise discovered by their earlier pursuers. They reached their vehicle without incident._ _

__"On to the next stop," said Shiro. "You're all—sure about this?"_ _

__Ulaz was sure. "We decided on the human tradition, followed by the Galra one. Next time, we'll reverse the order."_ _

__"Next time," said Shiro. "Right. Next time." His eyes were on the road ahead of him, but when Ulaz glanced at him from the front passenger seat, he could see a faint smile on his lips._ _

__The city was centralized, but their next destination was on the outskirts, where the buildings were more sparse and the open spaces and plant life more abundant. Ulaz—like his fellow Blades, he was sure—remained vigilant for any sign that they were being shadowed with intent. On their journey, they had encountered the usual Earth citizens who recognized Shiro or Keith, or were impressed by the still uncommon sight of Galra on Earth, but Ulaz found nothing untoward in the behavior of these people as they whispered to each other or hesitantly came forward to present the Paladins with their thanks._ _

__Shiro was gracious in dealing with the civilians, but throughout, he remained focused on his current task, showing Ulaz and the others some of the pleasures of Earth life. As the vehicle pulled into a parking lot, Ulaz found considered a new and distinctly human establishment, surrounded by numerous plaster plants. Among these plants were also curious sculptures of humans in large hats. One of these was motorized, its mechanical arm repeatedly lifting a looped rope into the air. Ulaz stared up at the bobbing rope unblinkingly, waiting for it to make sense._ _

__"As promised," said Shiro. "I'm going to show you the best Earth has to offer. This is—"_ _

__"Bankchannel," said Kolivan._ _

__"Bankchannel?" Shiro asked._ _

__"Yeah," said Keith, nodding. "Right. It's bankchannel."_ _

__"Okay," said Shiro slowly. "I didn't know Galra had mini golf. Called bankchannel, for some reason."_ _

__"You didn't?" Keith asked. "Oh, right, I didn't tell you that part."_ _

__"It's called that because you hit the sphere through the bankchannel," said Kolivan, matter-of-factly. "It isn't a traditional Galra pastime," said Kolivan. It was adopted more recently. "It's generally played only by children." He said this in the very serious tone of someone who was certainly not a child and had not planned to play bankchannel. Ulaz tried to keep his expression neutral. To assist himself in doing so, he looked very closely at the establishment's sign. It was plastic, but shaped to look like wood. It was painted with images of the tall, spiky plants that were native to this region, accompanied by two words in English which Ulaz was able to read: _CACTUS PUTT_. Not only were the words surrounded by cacti, but the letter T's took the shape of the very same plant. There were a few things about human industry Ulaz still found difficult to understand._ _

__"I suppose I don't need to explain the rules to you," said Shiro. "If you've played it already."_ _

__"We're familiar with the rules," said Kolivan._ _

__Looking from Shiro to Kolivan, Ulaz wasn't sure that Kolivan was as sure as he thought he was, but he decided to say nothing on this subject. He was curious about how the human bankchannel rules differed from the Galra concept of them. He had done a great deal of research on Earth and its many cultures, but he had not studied all their leisure pursuits._ _

__"I remember watching this game when I was—" Krolia began, and Ulaz, turning to face her, locked eyes with her. She blinked, then inclined her head a fraction. Like any Blades, they were skilled in communicating a great deal while saying very little. Keith, who was standing beside his mother, inclined his head in a way very similar to hers._ _

__"We should have brought our own bankbatters," said Kolivan, as he surveyed the establishment's collection of slim, metal implements. "These are of questionable quality." For someone who considered bankchannel a children's game, he was very concerned by the state of his bankbatter, Ulaz noted, but Kolivan did settle for one of the borrowed batters, after some scrutiny._ _

__There were few other players present at this time in the afternoon, as it was now later in one of the humans' "weekdays", days on which a large percentage of them worked. The Cactus Putt staff had gathered to watch as their group moved to the first part, or "tunnel" of the bankchannel circuit. The humans' batting grasses were more smooth and green than those of Galra circuits. The obstacles were more rounded and affable in appearance. One of these featured the head of a large, smiling human wearing oversized headgear with a wide brim, and the objective for that tunnel appeared to be striking the sphere down the human's throat. There were also many more plaster cacti blocking possible paths to the tunnel._ _

__As Kolivan and Ulaz brought their batters to bear at the starting mark, Krolia stepped up beside them. Ulaz placed the first sphere on the mark. It was bright yellow. The batters gleamed silver in the sun as the three Galra drew them back, taking up swinging positions before the sphere._ _

__Ulaz heard Shiro's voice. "Wait—" he began, but he was too late. The batters of the Galra met with a crash. They began to spar with the metal implements, their batters battling for dominance as Shiro and Keith each took a step back. Ulaz was only dimly aware of the human and half-human's presence there. He was caught up in the fray, his batter striking Krolia's with a sharp crack. This was a game, yes, but it was also a competition._ _

__"Wait... Stop, what are you doing?" Shiro was more confused than angry, and it was affection rather than pity that made Ulaz pull back from the combat._ _

__"Playing bankchannel," said Kolivan. His eyes were narrowed with fighting spirit, but he was nonetheless able to lower his batter, a moment after Ulaz and Krolia did the same._ _

__Shiro took a moment to process this reply. "I see. On Earth, this game doesn't involve, uh, jousting. Or fencing. Whatever that was."_ _

__Ulaz felt a little guilty, as he had already guessed as much. He should have informed Kolivan of his assumption, but the idea of witnessing his commander playing old fashioned Galra bankchannel had proved too tempting. The sight had been as enjoyable as he'd hoped. Kolivan's eyes had briefly brightened like a child's._ _

__Galra bankchannel, like most Galra games, featured a combat element. Every round opened with the players fighting to win the first strike. The winner would have no points added to their score. Second place would be given an extra point, third place two additional points, and so on. As the goal was to keep your score as low as possible, the fighting rounds were a crucial element of Galra bankchannel. Ulaz explained these rules briefly to Shiro and Keith._ _

__"I like it better than Earth golf," Keith decided. "Way less boring."_ _

__Shiro shook his head. "I'm not surprised."_ _

__"Understandable," said Ulaz, aa Kolivan and Krolia nodded their agreement. While striking the sphere into the tunnel had an appeal, Ulaz felt more was needed to make the game challenging and invigorating, like the clash of metal against metal in combat._ _

__"Unfortunately," said Kolivan, looking down at the batter in his hands, "this Earth equipment is not meant to withstand Galra rules."_ _

__Ulaz had noticed that, too. In the course of their brief skirmish, their batters had bent. While the prospect of Kolivan's playing had been a temptation, Ulaz hadn't thoroughly considered the possible negative consequences._ _

__"That's all right," said Shiro. "We can compensate them. I mean, clubs can't cost too much to replace…"_ _

__"Oh no, it's fine!" One of the human bankchannel attendants had drawn close, her yellow hair pulled up so that it spilled from the back of her orange hat._ _

__"We didn't intend any disrespect," said Kolivan._ _

__"Don't worry about it! That was actually pretty great, if you wanted to keep going like that." She smiled up at the three Galra who stood facing her. "To be honest," she said, "we lose more clubs than most people think. A few more aren't going to matter."_ _

__Ulaz wasn't sure if that was true, but he did appreciate the gesture._ _

__Emboldened by their colleague's foray, the other employees came in closer, ignoring their posts. Ulaz, who was not their supervisor, was untroubled by their interest. The bankchannel circuit would not be harmed by their inattention. "You're— Takashi Shirogane, aren't you?" one of the attendants finally managed to ask. He had dark hair and similarly dark eyes, and he wore the same orange hat as the woman with yellow hair. They all wore the same hat. Like the bankchannel business' sign, all the hats had the words CACTUS PUTT written on them._ _

__Shiro smiled as if there was nothing unusual whatsoever about their hats. "Yes, that's me."_ _

__"Honestly, you can wreck as many clubs as you want," said the dark-haired employee, and the others joined him in nervous laughter and agreement. "Considering what you did for us."_ _

__"It would be an honor," the young woman agreed: an appropriate response._ _

__"The honor is mine. I didn't—"_ _

__Kolivan interrupted Shiro. "We should teach you Galra bankchannel, then."_ _

__The humans hesitated. They were more wary of Kolivan than Shiro, but their wariness was short-lived. "Yeah, teach us Galra bankchannel!" another of the employees eagerly chimed in. Humans could become very enthusiastic with relatively little prompting. It was endearing, on occasion._ _

__"Okay," said Shiro. "This was not part of my plan, but why not? It makes perfect sense to blend Earth and Galra traditions today."_ _

__"Is bankchannel an Earth tradition?" Kolivan looked dubious._ _

__"As far as I understand it," said Shiro. "Not that I'm a golf—I mean, _bankchannel_ expert."_ _

__Kolivan gazed thoughtfully at his bent batter. "It's very coincidental that the same tradition could have emerged on two planets. The games are strikingly similar."_ _

__"Though the Earth version is more boring," added Keith._ _

__"The sport may have its origins elsewhere," Kolivan mused. "I doubt Krolia was the first traveler to visit this planet."_ _

__"You think _golf_ has an extraterrestrial origin?" Shiro asked._ _

__Kolivan nodded. "I do. It's very rare for an inhabited planet to remain isolated. They tend to attract attention. There are species who travel the universe with the intent of finding such places."_ _

__"That's—all right, now isn't the time for this, but we're going to discuss this more later." Shiro ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head slightly._ _

__Ulaz didn't doubt that Shiro meant what he said. He wasn't one to forget a subject, once it had been brought up, but he was right. This wasn't the time for history lessons. It was time for battle._ _

__The game was swift and brutal. Speed was another necessity in bankchannel. Calculations had to be quick and strikes sure and devastating. The competition between the five of them was not insignificant, considering their physical prowess, yet two leaders soon emerged. The first was Kolivan, whose expert skill and brutality made Ulaz wonder exactly how much bankchannel he had played—and how recently. The second leader among them was Shiro, who appeared to have significant experience with what the humans called "mini golf". His shots were impressively accurate, even at the high speed of play, and with a bent batter._ _

__Keith and Krolia, although determined, were inexperienced, and Ulaz had to admit to himself that he was distracted, not only by Kolivan's growing and grim determination, but by the pleasure of watching Shiro compete. Like any Galra, Ulaz wanted to win the contest at hand, but he also wanted to enjoy the spectacle, which was affecting his technique. Even if he had been fully committed, Kolivan and Shiro were formidable, and Ulaz's experience with bankchannel was limited._ _

__As they reached the final tunnel of the circuit, Kolivan and Shiro's scores were the lowest, but the winner was not yet decided. The bent batters the competitors had begun with had since been replaced, but their replacements had also been damaged. The orange-hatted employees had been joined by their commander, known as the "manager". The manager wore a hat with a wide, continuous brim that overshadowed those of her subordinates, a clear sign of her rank. She had offered her support for the combat, too. Very little work was being done at Cactus Putt today._ _

__A few human patrons had also joined the spectators. They were taking pictures and recording videos, but humans did such things so frequently that Ulaz thought little of it now, focusing instead on Shiro and Kolivan as they, worthy and battle-hardened warriors, approached the final tunnel._ _

__There was no way any of the other competitors could overtake those two, as they stood in the shadow of the last hurdle. This final tunnel was dominated by the figure of a huge cactus statue. The plant, unlike a real cactus, had bulging eyes and a gaping mouth. It was bright green, with thick, silver spines. A large sign proclaimed it the "Grand Saguaro". Its manyarmlike branches were poorly and shakily motorized and rotated at an uneven pace as they repeatedly blocked the hole at the base of the cactus. The competitors would have to strike their spheres past the whirling arms and directly into the narrow channel in order to seize the ultimate victory._ _

__"If you get a hole in one on the Grand Saguaro," the manager announced, "you win a free t-shirt!"_ _

__Their battle had been so pitched that all of them had become heated. They had taken off their outer layers of clothing, the hooded "disguises" Shiro had given them earlier. They had forgotten the need for stealth, in their eagerness for battle. Ulaz was wearing only a short, sleeveless shirt now, and the same was true of Shiro and Kolivan._ _

__"I'm going to win that t-shirt," said Kolivan._ _

__"Not if I win it first." Shiro had been caught up in the passion of Galra combat. As it would have been impossible for Ulaz to win at this point, he gave himself permission to step back and fully enjoy the sight of Shiro in battle: his muscles in motion, the sheen of sweat on his skin, and his prosthetic arm gleaming in the sunlight._ _

__Shiro's batter struck Kolivan's, and they struggled. Earth bankchannel batters were so much more blunt and light than their Galra equivalents that Ulaz had no concern that either competitor would be seriously injured._ _

__The clash was intense but brief— Batter met batter, in a sharp series of blows, and Shiro made first contact, touching the head of his batter to Kolivan's arm. With that, he won the right to strike first. Victory was within his grasp, if he could only make the shot._ _

__Shiro drew his batter back, swung, and hit. The sphere rolled, dauntless, toward the spinning arms of the Grand Saguaro. It rolled forward, smoothly and confidently, zeroing in on the passage on the base. It looked like the sphere would glide in but then—an arm of the Grand Saguaro lurched forward, knocking it aside. It sped away, rejected, lost._ _

__Kolivan stepped up. He had lost one battle, but the war was not yet over. He placed his sphere on the mark. He didn't hesitate. There was no time to hesitate in bankchannel. He struck. The sphere rolled. The arms of the cactus spun. The rest of the world held still._ _

__The sphere slid neatly into the passageway. There was a low, slightly grainy sound as it rolled down the channel. Ulaz raced around the Grand Saguaro in time to see the sphere come out the other side, sail across the smooth green surface, and settle into the final tunnel with a small, satisfying _click_._ _

__The spectators cheered. Krolia clapped a hand on Kolivan's shoulder. Even Shiro, who had been utterly defeated, joined in the praise, clapping appreciatively as Ulaz came to stand beside him._ _

__Ulaz nodded as he watched Kolivan receive the glory that was his due. "A great day for Kolivan."_ _

__Shiro nodded with him, then smiled, as he offered a look that had another meaning, one which had little to do with Kolivan. "And for me, too."_ _

__"I feel the same," said Ulaz. The sweat was still glistening on Shiro's neck, and Ulaz leaned in briefly to run his tongue across the damp skin below Shiro's ear, tasting salt._ _

__As Ulaz drew back again, Shiro laughed, softly. "I used to play this game a lot, as a kid. I wanted to share it with you. I guess you already knew it."_ _

__"It was, as Kolivan says, very _educational_ to see how humans play it. Galra bankchannel does not have so many cacti."_ _

__Shiro considered this. "I guess it wouldn't."_ _

__The manager was stepping forward to give Kolivan the t-shirt he had won, and he accepted it solemnly, lowering his head with great respect for his prize. The shirt was bright orange, perfectly contrasting his blue fur._ _

__"This is the largest one we have," said the manager._ _

__"I will wear it with pride." To prove his point, Kolivan started to pull it on. Keith and Krolia shared a look. Krolia raised her eyebrows._ _

__Shiro approached the manager as Kolivan admired himself. "You've really done a lot for us, and you didn't have to. I'm afraid we made a bit of a mess here. I'll be glad to make up for it."_ _

__"Don't worry about it! Not for a minute." She shook her head, then reached up to straighten the brim of her hat. "You're Takashi Shirogane. Besides—! We'll make up for the losses in no time thanks to the social media boost!"_ _

__"Social media?" Shiro asked._ _

__Yes, the human love of documentation. As a Blade, Ulaz understood the thirst for information, but he hadn't taken part in social media himself, as the thought of sharing so much information about himself in turn went against all of his training and experience._ _

__Shiro frowned. "There are a lot more people here, suddenly."_ _

__"We should go," said Keith, and Krolia nodded_ _

__"I concur." Kolivan was now wearing his new, orange t-shirt. There was an image on the front, of a large cactus and a blazing sun. As Kolivan turned, surveying their surroundings and the evolving situation, Ulaz saw that across the back of his shirt were the words CACTUS PUTT, and underneath them, a cartoon drawing of the Grand Saguaro, draped in a banner which read, _A Hole in Fun!_ Ulaz congratulated himself on his improving knowledge of English, but he had learned that, even when you knew English words, understanding _why_ they had been written could still prove a challenge._ _

__"Oh, you're leaving already?" Crestfallen, the manager and her employees tried to bargain with them to stay longer, offering them orange drink and orange hats._ _

__"No, we can't stay," said Shiro, "but I really should reimburse you for the clubs that we—"_ _

__The manager shook her head, firmly. "We won't take your money. But you should take these!" She pressed a few pieces of paper into Shiro's hands._ _

__Shiro leafed through them. "What are—?"_ _

__"Coupons!" the manager explained. "It's the least we can do. There are a lot of great businesses in the area. You should see the best the city has to offer!"_ _

__"Oh. This is nice," said Shiro. "I'll do that." He had a way of projecting sincerity. Even Ulaz couldn't tell, by the tone of his voice, whether the enthusiasm for the coupons was genuine. The manager was pleased, and the assembled employees gathered around for a few final selfies as they said their goodbyes._ _

__By the time their party of four Galra, plus Shiro, returned to the vehicle, the previously quiet Cactus Putt was now crowded with customers and onlookers. Ulaz ignored the stares that followed them as they crossed the parking lot. This was the power of human social media._ _

__"What are the coupons for?" Keith, who was sitting behind Shiro, looked over his shoulder. There was a suspicious note in his voice._ _

__Shiro shuffled through the papers again. "Let's see. There's dry cleaning, accounting services, paintball, costume rentals—"_ _

__"What's paintball? Ulaz asked._ _

__Shiro looked up. "That's another—wait, are you sure Galra don't have a similar sport called dyeballistics?"_ _

__"I don't think so," said Keith. As he was the only one who was half-Galra and half-human, he was best equipped to answer the question. "I probably would have heard about that."_ _

__"Then, why don't I show you instead of tell you?" asked Shiro. He turned the vehicle quickly down a side street, but not without remembering to signal first._ _

__They soon found themselves in another parking lot. The human urban landscape was peppered with parking lots. "I hadn't been planning on this, but why not?" Shiro asked. The building that rose before them had another colorful sign. This one read RANGER RANGE and showed a crouching human with a gun._ _

__"What is a Ranger Range?" Ulaz asked._ _

__Shiro stared at the sign. "That's a person called a ranger, and—you know what, it's not really a great name." He climbed out of the vehicle, without explaining further, but Ulaz managed to guess the remainder of the meaning on his own. Shiro recovered quickly from his reaction to the establishment's name. He put his hands on his hips. "This is going to be fun. If you liked bankchannel, you're going to _love_ paintball." Shiro was so pleased to see others pleased. Ulaz enjoyed that as much as he enjoyed the activities they were taking part in, perhaps more. _ _

__The staff of Ranger Range was as confused, at first, as the staff of Cactus Putt had been. There were a few distrusting looks, eyes narrowed in suspicion. At first, Ulaz was concerned. Anti-Galra sentiment was not unheard of on Earth, but Shiro and Keith were shortly recognized, and the atmosphere grew warmer and more chaotic. Everyone working at the Ranger Range suddenly had suggestions and instructions for their party._ _

__The rules of paintball were easy to understand. Their greatest obstacle, at first, was the matter of the coveralls. Keith and Shiro were easy to dress, but there was much scrambling to find coveralls large enough for the other Galra. Ulaz and the other Galra were used to this issue, so they waited patiently. There was much discussion about the largest and most forgiving brand and how many extras the large should be, but finally, suitable garments were found, even if they were a little short._ _

__"I'll be on Shiro's team," Keith volunteered._ _

__Kolivan spoke before Shiro could agree. "Ulaz and Shiro should be a team. That would be fitting, today."_ _

__Ulaz saw a certain logistical problem with this decision, but he didn't object, because he wanted to be on Shiro's team. As he and Shiro both agreed, this ended any disagreement. They were making the choices today._ _

__Keith wasn't overjoyed, but he didn't object, so it was decided: Ulaz and Shiro would face Keith, Kolivan, and Krolia in combat. A wide field of battle was prepared for them, bordered with grey walls and strewn with obstacles and hiding places. There were large rocks, trees, and even buildings to provide cover. It was a setting not unlike that of a war-torn world, complete with rubble._ _

__As they were a team of two, Ulaz elected to remain with Shiro. Their opponents, with their slightly greater numbers, had more flexibility, but Ulaz had never been impressed by superior numbers alone. It was how you utilized your troops that mattered. That said, these opponents were particularly skilled ones, and they were armed. Kolivan was already energized by his victory at Cactus Putt._ _

__"Our best chance is to remain undetected for as long as possible," Ulaz told Shiro, as they consulted in whispers beforehand. "We'll catch them unawares. It is with stealth that we will defeat them."_ _

__Shiro nodded as if he understood, but the uncertainty was plain on his face. "That might be a very quiet game of paintball."_ _

__"But it is a game we will win."_ _

__"Winning _is_ important," Shiro agreed._ _

__Ulaz could read his tone. "But you would prefer a more active assault."_ _

__"That might be more exciting."_ _

__Ulaz was willing to consider Shiro's opinion. Victory was his ultimate goal, but he too knew the desire for the thrill of battle. "I have an amended proposal. At first, we will remain quiet and out of sight, until they believe our plan is a defensive one. But when we spy an opening, we will launch an assault that will annihilate them."_ _

__Shiro stifled a laugh. "You know, I like the sound of that. Say it again."_ _

__"We will annihilate them," said Ulaz, obligingly, as he eyed the possible paintballs on display. "What color should we pick for our ammunition?"_ _

__Shiro didn't take long to decide, and his answer was decisive: "Purple."_ _

__No battle plan was without flaw. There were too many unpredictable factors in the field. Perfection was an unattainable goal, so it was necessary to operate with what you had. Ulaz had done the same many times, when he had been an operative. When he had liberated Shiro from the empire, he had had little more than his own ingenuity and some access codes to work with. Few would have believed his plan to abduct the well-guarded human prisoner was likely to succeed, yet it had. Their continued existence was proof that risks, even great ones, could be worth the taking. This risk was not so great, but Ulaz did not consider it to be mere play, for all it was a game. Every battle was a practice for the next._ _

__In accordance with Ulaz's plan, their paintball match started slowly. From the first, they were pursued by their opponents, but they chose flight over fight, ducking behind walls or taking shelter in one of the small buildings. Ulaz let Shiro, who was so eager for action, fire whatever shots needed to be fired, to warn their pursuers away. It was possible that Shiro would take a lucky shot, but Shiro had been correct in advising a course of action. There was little hope that he and Ulaz would defeat the other team like this. No, more drastic measures would have to be taken to defeat a team of Blades. He had his ideas, but he could not plan too far ahead. He would have to act in the moment, as opportunity dictated, keeping his opponents' natures in mind._ _

__Opportunity might come by chance, but there were times when you had to make your own opportunities. Ulaz had promised Shiro a battle, and so, a battle he would have. He chose his moment with care. One of their enemies started firing on them, from behind a tall rock. From the rhythm of the shots and the shape of the orange spatter on the ground, Ulaz guessed it was Kolivan's weapon-work. Good. That was what Ulaz wanted. He and Shiro dove into a small shed built of corrugated metal. The building had two entrances, on opposite sides of the structure. Once they were standing inside, alone, Ulaz nodded at Shiro. Now was the time. There were a few rocks on the floor inside, and Shiro bent to pick them up and throw them out the far door, possibly giving the impression that they had fled that way. That feint might have earned them a few extra moments, as it distracted the others and perhaps caused them to separate. Their opponents were out of sight, so he and Shiro had to guess at their movements, based on sound and personal knowledge._ _

__Ulaz was sure that the other two were nearby. They had probably been following Kolivan's lead. Not only was he their commander, but his recent victory was so fresh. He was a strong adversary, but they could not continue to avoid him. Shiro looked toward one door. Ulaz looked toward the other. Then, and Shiro nodded at each other again. It was best not to discuss your plan out loud in the vicinity of Blades._ _

__Ulaz ran out of the far door. A paintball flew at him, but he had expected that. He was already running, swerving to the side to circle around the shed and rejoin Shiro. Shiro, meanwhile, was making his indirect assault on Kolivan, leaping and diving from cover to cover, taking advantage of the terrain and trees and the objects that had been placed by the designers of Ranger Range. There had never been any doubt in Ulaz's mind as to why Shiro had been called Champion, even though he had not deserved to be treated like an animal. Shiro was the equal of any Galra in battle, dodging the orange rain of Kolivan's ammunition._ _

__It hadn't escaped Ulaz's attention that Kolivan had chosen paintballs for his team that were the color of his Grand Saguaro t-shirt. Kolivan clearly hoped to follow his first victory with a second. Yet in the first battle, Ulaz had been content to watch Shiro excel. Now, as Shiro's teammate, he intended to win. Crouching by the side of the shed, flanked on his other side by a crumbling concrete wall, Ulaz provided cover for Shiro, shooting at Kolivan whenever he caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the rock._ _

__Then orange paint struck the wall of the shed beside Ulaz. He couldn't stay where he was. He lunged forward. They were both exposed, in danger of being struck and eliminated at any moment, but the end had not yet been determined. There were many powerful warriors in play, and also powerful feelings. Finally, Ulaz spoke aloud. "Shiro! Rush him! Don't hold back!"_ _

__What happened next unfolded in an instant. Shiro, clearly trusting in Ulaz, stopped his dodging and ran straight at Kolivan. Kolivan fired, but his bullet never hit Shiro. A camouflaged blur flew between them, and orange paint splattered across it as it blocked the shot._ _

__"Keith?" There was surprise in Shiro's voice, but Ulaz was not very surprised. He had hoped that something like this might happen, but he had not been certain that it would._ _

__Keith was lying on the ground at Shiro's feet, his arm and chest dyed orange. "Shiro—I— had to… protect you..."_ _

__"Keith." Shiro sank to his knees at his friend's side. "You're—not on my team."_ _

__"That's not important," Keith hissed, still dying dramatically at Shiro's feet. "I couldn't— let you die." Keith closed his eyes and lay still._ _

__Keith may have been eliminated, but Kolivan was still a threat. Ulaz saw him inching forward to take a shot. Ulaz was about to fire at him, but before he could pull the trigger, Krolia rushed out from behind—-actually, Ulaz wasn't sure where she had been hiding before she'd revealed herself. She was now positioned between Shiro and the rock that sheltered Kolivan. Ulaz tensed, sure she was about to shoot at him or Shiro. Instead, she turned on her heel and shot Kolivan. Not just once, but multiple times. Her shots turned the rock orange. "That is my son," she said, as Kolivan stumbled out into the open, stunned._ _

__Krolia's vengeance taken, she ran to her son's side. Once there, she sank to her knees and and cradled Keith in her arms._ _

__"You're not on my team either," said Shiro, slowly. "Neither of you are on my team."_ _

__"But I am," said Ulaz. He calmly raised his gun and shot Krolia in the head. The paintball burst into a spray of bright purple as it made contact, eliminating her._ _

__Shiro turned to face him, eyes wide. " _Ulaz_."_ _

__Ulaz understood that this had all played out dramatically, but he had intended to win, no matter what. "I promised you the annihilation of our enemies," said Ulaz._ _

__"True, you did. But I didn't think it would go quite that way."_ _

__Ulaz hadn't thought it would go that way either, but he had been willing to take advantage of the events as they unfolded. "Annihilation is rarely pleasant."_ _

__"Did he really promise you that?" Krolia asked Shiro, looking up from her "dead" son._ _

__"He did."_ _

__"That's romantic," said Krolia._ _

__Keith opened his eyes. "Ulaz is like that. He's _mushy_."_ _

__"It's my place to assure complete annihilation, if that's what Shiro wants," said Ulaz, although their own opponents had done a large portion of the annihilating on their own. That didn't matter. What mattered was that Shiro and Ulaz were victorious._ _

__"See?" asked Keith, sitting up, shaking his head, and pushing his hair back. "Mushy."_ _

__"I wasn't aware that made me mushy." Ulaz was amused by Keith's remark, so he shrugged instead of disagreeing. "But you must be right."_ _

__"Yes, it was the most romantic thing I'd ever heard." Shiro shook his head. He was shaking it again as they returned to their vehicle. "Quite a battle. That took much longer than I expected. Galra really know how to have fun, don't they?"_ _

__"We do," Ulaz confirmed, and the others agreed, although Kolivan was more subdued than the other two, as their deep emotions had cost him his victory._ _

__"I will never doubt that again," said Shiro. "I wish they had let us pay for that. We even had coupons! Everyone's being too nice. I do want to support local businesses."_ _

__"As they said, the social media will provide the payment." Ulaz said this with confidence, even if he didn't fully comprehend the subtle and complex mysteries of the Earth internet. He was far more certain of his knowledge of Earth culture than he had been when he'd first arrived on this planet._ _

__"You know, you're probably not wrong." Shiro laughed. "I hope you're right."_ _

__"They all wish to honor you," said Kolivan, who was beginning to recover from the ignominy of his defeat. "Even if it is in such small ways."_ _

__"They already do honor me. I'm happy to see them thriving. That's what I want." Shiro was stopped at a red light now, so it wasn't unsafe for him to briefly turn toward his passengers, flashing them a grin. "And—do you know what else I want?"_ _

__There was silence in the car, until Keith finally asked, "What do you want, Shiro?"_ _

__"Ice cream!" was Shiro's enthusiastic reply._ _

__More silence answered him._ _

__"Ice cream?" Keith asked. "Galra can't eat that, can they?"_ _

__Ulaz nodded, somberly. There had been a few _incidents_ involving Galra eating certain human foods. It had been determined that there was a sugar known as "lactose" that most Galra had difficulty digesting. It had left the Blades wary of foods like "butter", "cheese", and even the "ice cream" that so many humans were so fond of. The Galra diet was primarily meat-based. Their ancestors had never taken up the habit of consuming milk._ _

__"No, not the regular kind," Shiro admitted. "But there's a good vegan ice cream place around here. I looked it up."_ _

__"What is vegan?" asked Ulaz._ _

__"In this context, it means the ice cream has no dairy in it, so you can eat it. I'll explain it more fully later."_ _

__Ulaz was willing to accept this explanation. He was also willing to try the ice cream, as he knew Shiro was fond of it. Shiro had tried a number of Galra dishes, and even when he had been dubious, he had forged ahead bravely._ _

__"This time," said Shiro, as he parked, "you can wait by the car, and I'll go in to get the ice cream by myself. Then maybe they'll let me pay for it."_ _

__Ulaz gave him a doubtful look from the front passenger seat._ _

__"Seriously, Shiro?" Keith asked._ _

__"Yes, seriously. I want someone to accept my money."_ _

__"Okay." Keith shrugged. "Good luck."_ _

__Ulaz was content to wait at the car. Keith, Krolia, and Kolivan waited with him, all of them doing their part to preserve Shiro's hoped-for anonymity. Ulaz stood up and stretched, as human terrestrial vehicles tended to be slightly cramped. He gazed up at the blue sky and soft white clouds of Earth._ _

__Shiro returned in several minutes, bearing the ice cream, the soft substance served in small, edible vessels. Shiro was crestfallen, and Ulaz knew by his expression alone that he had not been charged for his ice cream. "Here. I got a cone for everyone. I might as well have let you come in with me, but I picked for you. This is soft-serve. It's a traditional style of ice cream."_ _

__As Ulaz had been assured that this ice cream was vegan and thus, safe to eat, he held up the cone in one hand and licked at the soft food thoughtfully. Beside him, Kolivan did the same. Shiro waited, watching them both to witness their reactions. Shiro was less interested in Keith and Krolia's actions, as they had both tried ice cream before, having spent significant amounts of time on Earth in the past._ _

__"Enjoyable," Kolivan decided._ _

__Shiro was so enthusiastic that Ulaz couldn't help but smile at him. "Thank you, Shiro. I like the ice cream." He wasn't being untruthful, but he liked Shiro's joy at seeing him try ice cream even more than he liked the food itself._ _

__"We've got company," Keith said suddenly._ _

__As one, they turned to follow Keith's gaze. In the excitement of the day's bankchannel and paintball, they had forgotten that there was an adversary they were supposed to be avoiding. Their pursuers had caught up with them at last. It was no wonder that they had been tracked. After all, they had left a very distinct trail. _Social media._ Their publicized activities had been the perfect way to attract those they had been avoiding: the press._ _

__Krolia quickly handed Keith the hooded shirt she still had with her. He pulled it on and pulled up the hood to disguise himself, but it was too late for Shiro. He had been spotted already._ _

__The first trucks were just pulling up. There was no way to avoid them. They were approaching from both sides. Their numbers had grown since earlier in the day. Shiro's fame among the citizens of Earth did not only win him free ice cream. It also meant that he was repeatedly besieged by those who wished to know even the most minute details of his life. The people converging on them now were eager for those details, so that they could be shared worldwide, in the form of print, still images, audio, and video._ _

__They were treated to a chorus of versions of Shiro's name. "Takashi! Takashi Shirogane—! Shiro! Shirogane!" This was followed by a barrage of questions. "How are you enjoying the city?" "What brings you out here today?" "Are these political figures with you?" "What does this mean for human-Galra relations?" "Shiro, what are your thoughts on—" It was difficult to say how long this might continue._ _

__" _Enough!_ " Tossing his hooded shirt aside, Keith lashed out at the encircling interviewers. "He doesn't have to answer your questions. What's wrong with you? Can't you even leave him alone at his own bachelor party?"_ _

__A hush fell. It wasn't like the awkward silence that had greeted Shiro's ice cream prompting in the vehicle. There was wonder in the lack of sound, then excitement and awe. It stretched out, until one lone reporter managed to pronounce the words. " _Bachelor party?_ "_ _

__Keith had realized his mistake. He tried to save himself, grasping at journalism terms. "That was off the record!"_ _

__Then there was a new eruption of sound, louder than the first. The questions rolled forth in great volume, like an avalanche rushing down a hill. There were so many of them that they all blended together, but one word among all the words was prominent and rapidly repeated: _Who?__ _

___Who is it? Who are you in a relationship with? Who are you marrying? Who's the lucky one?_ _ _

__"No comment!" Shiro shouted, so he could be heard over the din._ _

__Shiro, Ulaz, and the others piled back into their borrowed vehicle. Kolivan ate the remainder of his ice cream in a few swift bites. In the chaos, Ulaz couldn't even fully enjoy the sight, as Kolivan blinked and widened his eyes as the cold took effect. Their adversaries had surrounded them, and their festive mood had ebbed. Fortunately, they were able to drive away from the scene of their capture. The press might be insistent, but they had never barred Shiro's way._ _

__It was Keith who spoke first. "Shiro, I'm sorry."_ _

__"You don't have to be sorry. In fact, you might have done me a favor. I was wondering how to make the announcement. You've saved me all that trouble."_ _

__Shiro and Ulaz had kept their relationship a secret from the public primarily for reasons of privacy. The fact that Takashi Shirogane, one of the heroes of the war, was in a relationship with a Galra—and also planning to marry that Galra—would doubtlessly cause a media explosion. The two of them had never intended to keep their connection hidden indefinitely, but choosing the proper time to reveal the information had proved challenging. They had other concerns. Winning a war was a beginning, as much as it was an end. They had work to do._ _

__"Now we must act swiftly," said Ulaz, "and reveal the identity of your partner."_ _

__"We must?" asked Shiro._ _

__"If we do not, they will begin to speculate."_ _

__"Oh no." Shiro's intake of breath was sharp. "You're right."_ _

__Ulaz placed a hand lightly on Shiro's thigh as they continued to drive on. "We can do that tomorrow," he said._ _

__"Right," Shiro agreed. He was smiling again, and Ulaz was glad to see his mood improve so quickly. "Tomorrow, after we get married. We'll do it then."_ _


	2. Galra Rites

The dawn had not yet come.

Ulaz licked at Shiro's skin, running his tongue over the soft skin of his neck, below his ear. That was sufficient to wake Shiro, who stirred and rolled toward him. _Wake_ was probably too severe a word, as Shiro's only responsive action was sliding his arms around Ulaz's neck and murmuring a few incoherent words. He was too close now for Ulaz to lick his neck, so Ulaz stroked his hair instead. He smoothed it down, since it was a mess.

"It's time to awaken," said Ulaz softly.

Shiro muttered under his breath, and although on an ordinary day, Ulaz would have been tempted to let him sleep more, this was not an ordinary day. They had no choice. Even Ulaz might have chosen to sleep a little longer, if he had the option. The previous day's activities had been invigorating, and they had stayed up much later than they perhaps should have, enjoying each other's company.

"I'm awake," said Shiro, his words managing to take form, if only partly. He was convincing enough, although his voice was still soft, its sounds rounded by sleep. 

"Then it is time for us to go."

They dressed quickly. Ulaz could not help but glance at Shiro as, for the first time, he pulled on the distinctive dark body armor of the Blade of Marmora. The faint glow of the armor lights added a red cast to Shiro's skin. Ulaz felt a deep pleasure at the sight, an emotion which was hard to describe. Maybe it was like the feeling of witnessing home, after a long time away. He had never known a homeworld, so he had never experienced that before.

When they left the room, they carried nothing with them but their clothing. They had no tools, no weapons. Weapons would come later. They walked in silence down the corridors of the garrison. Their clearance in this building was such that no one stopped them. They encountered no one on their route, as the garrison staff had been informed of their intentions. It was important that they remain undisturbed. This ritual had never before been performed on Earth, but the planet didn't matter so much as the people involved: Galra. Or, more specifically, Blades.

The moon was setting, silvering the rough ground below. The early morning was cold and austere, greeting them with a sharp breeze as they left the building. It was a bracing climate, a chill rising from the very desert stones. Ulaz had explained the ritual at length to Shiro, long before. Shiro had asked all his questions then, so they were now beyond the need for speech. It was the custom: neither of them spoke. Neither of them needed to. They understood each other. That was part of the ceremony, the test of moving and acting in unison, without the need for words. They would not use words again, until their objective was completed.

Ulaz searched the ground for signs, in the dark. The desert held its secrets close, but its mysteries were not impenetrable. A loose stone here, an indent there. There were indications that a number of people had passed this way, not long before. Ulaz was the first to find the track, but that was because his night vision was more keen, a matter of biology. He nodded to Shiro, who nodded back, studying the evidence Ulaz had found. Ulaz's vision might have been sharper, but Shiro knew this terrain better. He gestured with one hand, and Ulaz inclined his head in agreement.

This was a kind of initiation, but not the same one that Keith had taken part in, at a time that now felt so very long ago. This ritual was performed far less often, but it was no less traditional and revered. Ulaz felt a rush of anticipation. Now, this was a feeling he knew well. It was one he experienced before a battle. Battle, for his people, was a profound form of expression, which was why most of their sacred rituals took the form of combat. The empire had so often perverted that battle-readiness into cruelty and destruction. That was not the true Galra way. Perhaps the Galra could return to themselves all, regaining some of their former, true glory in the aftermath of the war.

Together, Shiro and Ulaz tracked their quarry across the desert. The ones they pursued were canny, and more than once they had doubled back and taken unexpected routes, but they had not managed to pass without leaving any trace.

He still remembered the first time he had seen the human gladiator, his face bruised and his chin streaked with blood. Ulaz had known from the first that Shiro had represented hope and strength for the people of Earth. Ulaz had not, at first, fully understood all the ways in which Shiro would come to represent hope and strength for himself. He had spent so many hours tending to him, making him ready to fight in the arena again and again, ostensibly for the good of the spectators, but in reality, for his own reasons.

Ulaz had not acted to save Shiro for personal gain, but for the good of Earth and the universe. He had not known that, after he had saved Shiro, Shiro would, in turn, save him. Yet Shiro had done so, and over the course of their many shared battles, their relationship had evolved in many unforeseen ways. Ulaz could not have predicted that Shiro would come to care for him as he did now.

As they progressed in their search, the ground grew higher and rougher. Whenever one of them lost the track, the other would find it again. They complemented each other, and that was part of the ritual—to work together to achieve their common goal. It was not an easy task, but it was well-known that easy tasks were not the ones with the greatest rewards.

At last, he and Shiro found themselves at the foot of a steep, flat-topped hill which stood alone in the midst of the desert. Ulaz looked up at the rock face, then glanced at Shiro. Shiro nodded. There was no question: their quarry had fled this way. They had to climb. They circled the hill— _mesa_ was the human word for it—until they found what looked like a possible route to the top. It was not a sure route, but they would take the risk.

They had to climb the hill with only the aid of their own bodies, and, more importantly, each other. When rocks slid beneath Ulaz's feet, it was Shiro who reached up to steady him. When it was Shiro who started to slip, Ulaz was quick to turn and catch hold of him. They were so in sync on this journey that they had long prepared for that they anticipated not only each other's intentions, but each other's mistakes. That ability to read each other, to know each other's strengths and weaknesses, was what made them good partners.

They didn't hurry up the side of the mesa. A fall would be more costly than caution was. Ulaz knew that their quarry would be waiting at the top for them. _Now_ they were quarry, but very soon, they would be opponents, and they were the ones who had chosen the battleground, which made them more dangerous.

The mood this morning was different from yesterday's celebratory air. Not only was the sky dark and the air cold, but the lightness had gone from their manner, leaving them determined and grim. This ritual was a celebration of sorts, but it was Galra, not human. Galra celebrations were far more severe. Ulaz and Shiro had made the conscious choice to combine the two cultures, but they did not always mix smoothly. Sometimes the result of the combination was uneven and one stood out more than the other. 

Compromise, as the humans said, was a part of any marriage. Galra believed this, too. Those who fought together needed a realistic understanding of each other's limitations, and it was necessary to take those limits into account. Like now. The sky was growing lighter, but it was not yet day, and this side of the mesa was in shadow. Ulaz had taken the lead, since his vision was better. It was Ulaz, then, who first became aware of the shape moving toward them.

It was a dark, lithe form, leaping down from above. Ulaz rose to the occasion, leaping up and delivering a blow to its midsection that sent it reeling to the side. It clung briefly to the rocky wall, then clambered quickly back up. It wasn't alone. As soon as it leapt away, another, similarly quick shape separated from the mesa wall. That one surprised Ulaz, as it had been hiding quietly in a crevice, and he had passed it unknowingly in his climb up the mesa. It was Shiro who handled this attacker. Keeping his grip on the rock surface with both hands, he swung himself to the side and kicked out, landing a solid blow.

The battle had begun.

Shiro and Ulaz moved more quickly now. There had been a time for caution, but now that they were in the midst of combat, they were too vulnerable and exposed on the cliff wall. They had to rise. There was no other way. The two opponents they had rebuffed had recovered enough to return, and now there were two more enemies accompanying them. Shiro's arm flared in the dark. He used it to cut into the surface of the rock, freeing a large chunk of the stone. Ulaz threw it toward their attackers—not to strike them, but to impact the rock above them at a weak point, sending a rain of stones down to distract them. They climbed upward, increasing their speed, while continuing to fed off their attackers. At one point, Ulaz slipped. The surface was too treacherous at this speed. His feet flailed briefly through the air, and then there was suddenly something firm beneath them. It was Shiro's metal arm, supporting him, and then easing him up. From there, he was able to leap higher and find better footing.

Together, assisting each other and defending each other, they made it to the top of the flat hill. From there, they could see the Earth stretching out in all directions, and in the farthest east, the first touch of the sun, warming the horizon, turning the sky from darkest blue to purple. It was by that light that he and Shiro saw the semicircle of armed and masked figures surrounding them. Shiro and Ulaz were unarmed, but these warriors all wielded blades. This was what humans would term a "wedding party", although Galra and human weddings were, as Ulaz understood, so different that using the phrase here was what Shiro might call "a stretch". Nonetheless, these were their friends, who had gathered to see them wed. In that sense, this group was in line with the human concept.

In human weddings, however, the wedding party did not attack the couple who were preparing to exchange vows. The idea of a ceremony with no battle and no weapons involved was not odd to Ulaz, who was familiar with many societies, from many worlds, but he found a purity in the directness, immediacy, and intensity of Galra weddings. This form of the ceremony was particular to the Blade of Marmora. It had been created with Blades in mind, and with the awareness that there would be times when a warrior would marry into the organization. In the time of the long war, it would have been difficult for any Blade to have a spouse who was not a Blade themselves. That life held certain demands that should be shared between partners and accepted by them.

That war was over now, but the ritual remained. Now they could perform it freely, so it was with great joy that Ulaz faced their enemies, who were also their friends. They had lost so many allies over the centuries, but they could celebrate for them now, in their honor, in the Galra fashion. This semicircle of now-still figures facing them represented much of what remained of the Blade of Marmora. Only a few of them had gone into the town yesterday, because they had wanted to keep the bachelor party small, so as to attract less attention. They had not been successful in avoiding attention, but here, in the midst of the desert, no one was present but the Blades—and Shiro, who would soon become a Blade himself, by marriage, if not by blood.

Past the semicircle facing Shiro and Ulaz stood two solitary figures, one on either side of the mesa. Ulaz knew who they were, even with their faces hidden. He would know them anywhere. One of the two was much taller and broader. The other was slender, but sharp, like a blade. Ulaz turned toward the taller figure. He knew that he had to fight him. The semicircle parted. The warriors that made it up had defended the top of the mesa, but now they waited in readiness. They let Ulaz and Shiro pass.

Ulaz approached the larger figure, who stood at the mesa's edge. Shiro moved toward the smaller opponent. Now, after working together to reach this place, they had to fight these crucial battles alone. They could not help each other to conquer these opponents, who had been chosen for them.

When Ulaz stood before the tall, masked figure, it was with the knowledge that he would have to defeat him before he could return to Shiro's side. It would not be an easy fight, and Ulaz would not take it lightly, wedding or no. This was a skilled warrior, who had taken many lives. In this ceremony, victory—and the right to wed—were not assured. Kolivan, he was certain, had no intention of letting him win

The advantage of fighting someone Ulaz knew as well as he knew Kolivan was the same as the drawback. _They knew each other._ This knowledge exposed their weaknesses, but also offered insight into the weaknesses their opponent. Familiarity was, like so many blades, double-edged. Kolivan was a formidable opponent, but Ulaz had no fear of him. Kolivan had something he wanted, now, and Ulaz was going to take it from him.

There was no point in hesitating. If he did not strike first, Kolivan would. Ulaz waited only as long as he needed to before he lunged forward and struck. Ulaz was empty handed, but Kolivan was armed. Ulaz swiped at him with his claws, aiming for his arm; if he could injure him, Kolivan might find wielding his weapon more difficult. Anyone less swift than Kolivan would have been wounded, but Kolivan was able to dodge in time to avoid the blow. Kolivan lacked all the warmth he had displayed yesterday. He was cold and efficient. He struck back, and his knife almost cut into Ulaz's shoulder.

Kolivan led him along the mesa's steep edge, using the drop as another weapon, or a shield, of sorts, since Ulaz had to keep away from the edge, as he could fall or be pushed over it. The edge was also a tool that Ulaz could use, as it could be turned against Kolivan in the same way. Ulaz lunged at Kolivan repeatedly, attempting to guide him as he wished, as Kolivan did the same to him. Kolivan was careful not to show Ulaz his back. He faced him, consistently, even as he retreated. Yet as Ulaz continued his assault, he caught glimpses of Kolivan's back. He saw the sheath fixed there, and he the weapon it contained. That was the prize he sought.

Behind him, Ulaz knew, Shiro was facing his own battle, against Keith: the most formidable opponent for him, and the one who knew him best. Ulaz could not afford to turn away from Kolivan, so he could not see how Shiro fared. He could only trust that they would both vanquish their opponents. After that, a greater conflict awaited them, but it did Ulaz no good to think so far ahead. They could not win the war if they did not win the battle.

Ulaz formulated an idea of how he might seize this victory. His plan was dangerous, but his goal was worth the risk. He only had to keep close to the edge and study it without appearing to do so. As he readied his plan, an instant's inattention earned him a cut from Kolivan on the side of his face. He felt the sting that told him blood had been drawn. 

The injury seemed like a detriment, but if Ulaz had been distracted, then inflicting the wound would have distracted Kolivan, if only for a slight instant. This was the moment. Kolivan would be expecting either a retreat or a retaliation, so Ulaz did neither. Instead of pulling away, he leaned in, which was foolish. He pushed Kolivan aside, then leapt over the cliff's edge. He was right: Kolivan had not been expecting that. Ulaz knew this terrain better now. He had herded Kolivan along the edge of the mesa's flat surface, and now he was again at the part of the steep hillside where they had climbed up, where it was easiest to scale. 

Ulaz didn't fall far. He alighted on a rock outcropping. Bending his knees deep, he leapt up at Kolivan, who was looking out over the edge to see what had become of Ulaz. Ulaz landed with both feet on the cliff's edge, then used that impact to vault up again, taking advantage of Kolivan's momentary surprise to leap over him. Ulaz executed a flip mid-air, and as he descended, his hand snaked out to grab the hilt of the knife strapped to Kolivan's back. He pulled it free, and as he landed on his feet again, he was very conscious of the weight of the metal in his hand. It felt both solid and light. It was sharp and bright. It was his wedding knife.

While he would have liked to stop and appreciate the weapon, there was no time for that now. The ritual was only partly complete. He had to rejoin Shiro, although he was not permitted to interrupt Shiro's battle with his own knife-bearer.

As he retreated from Kolivan with his prize, he could see Shiro and Keith locked in combat. Although usually eager to protect Shiro, Keith was battling him without hesitation now. That was what was called for. That was what Shiro wanted, so that was what Keith provided in this moment. His blows were quick and relentless as he struck at Shiro with his knife. Shiro and Keith were evenly matched, and their fight had gone on longer than Ulaz's, but it was necessary for Shiro and Ulaz to join forces soon, or they would be taken on separately and overwhelmed. This was not a forgiving ceremony.

Ulaz wanted to call out to him, but he had to stay silent, so he kept his mouth shut tight. He could only watch and continue to avoid Kolivan. He did not, however have to wait long. As if sensing Ulaz's desire, Shiro surged forward, channeling all his strength into one smooth, powerful movement. With a kick, he knocked Keith's legs out from under him, as his hand grabbed Keith's shoulder and brought him down to the ground. Keith made contact with the earth in silence without so much as a loud exhale. He was already struggling to rise, but Shiro pinned him and pulled his wedding knife from the sheath on Keith's back.

Shiro looked toward Ulaz, and their gazes locked. Now, their fight could truly begin.

Ulaz went to Shiro's side. They stood together, knives in hand. These knives did not awaken like true Blades of Marmora. Their length was static. They were ceremonial, and would not have been carried into battle, but that did not mean they were not worthy of being brought into battle. They were strong and sharp, and he and Shiro would rely on them now.

They stood back to back as their attackers assembled. Kolivan and Keith joined the other Blades. Ulaz knew all of them, even when they were masked. Shiro knew them well enough that he might have recognized them as well, but no matter how well-acquainted they were with each other, their opponents would give them a good fight. Ulaz and Shiro would have to strive to be recognized as partners in the Blade.

It was no more easy to marry into the Blade than it was to join directly, as a warrior of Galra heritage. It was, simply, not an easy process for anyone, but in the case of a Blade bonding like theirs, the candidate fighting to join would not have to fight alone. Yet it could be argued that, because of the partner who fought with them, the fight itself was twice as grueling.

Ulaz was aching from the assault on the side of the mesa and the prolonged face-off against Kolivan. The cut on his face stung, and his body was doubtlessly blanketed by bruises, but he accepted the pain. Pain was his teacher and his guide. _Palen-bol._

With Shiro at his side, he would not fail. He felt safer with Shiro at his back, because he knew and trusted him. That was what it meant to be joined as Blades, to act as one. _Two hands, one mind_ , that was the the saying used to describe two people who acted as one. It was a state that could be achieved only through shared experience and struggle.

Their friends—who were also their enemies—allowed them little time to enjoy a respite in each other's company. Ulaz and Shiro had no time to consult. They were able to glance at each other briefly, but they barely had time to breathe before the onslaught began. They were surrounded on all sides. The enemy surged forward. These warriors were not holding back. The danger of injury was real. Ulaz sprang forward, as aware of the attackers ahead of him as he was aware of his beloved at his back.

The aim of the battle now was both simple and almost impossible—to disarm every single Blade before either of them were disarmed. Their arms and hands were slashed at by what suddenly seemed like a thousand whirling knives. Their opponents tried to unbalance them, to topple them, to wound them. They struck with weapons and fists, and the ordeal was punishing—  But then Shiro struck a blow with the hilt of his knife to the knuckles of one of their attackers. The fingers loosened, and the knife they were holding fell. Ulaz snatched it before it hit the ground, then hurled it up toward the sky. It traveled in a perfect arc, cutting through the air, flying free of the mesa, falling through space to hit the ground, which was so distant from here that the sound of the knife landing didn't carry so far.

Disposing of the weapons was the only way. Ulaz and Shiro could only use their wedding knives in the fight. If they were to discard their enemies' knives within reach, they might be taken up by their wielders again, and then the disarming would never be finished, and the battle would drag on. He and Shiro could not allow the battle to drag. They needed their victory to be as swift as it could be. So they fought harder, and the knives flew.

Kolivan, perhaps in retribution for his recent defeat in the knife-bearer battle, or yesterday's paintball shame, rammed Ulaz's forearm with his elbow. The pain made Ulaz grimace, and he almost dropped his knife, but he made himself hold on. Through the pain, he would find what he wanted. Kolivan struck again, this time making contact with his side, and Ulaz staggered back. Kolivan closed in, but a sudden blow to the side of his head sent him reeling. Ulaz didn't have time to look at Shiro or to show his gratitude, but he was sure that Shiro knew how he felt. He was able to show his gratitude physically moments later, when an enemy aimed a flying kick at Shiro's head—and instead of making contact, felt Ulaz's claws in their leg as they were tossed aside. Blows were struck. Knives flew. Conscious thought faded into instinct. There was nothing in life but the battle, and Shiro. 

A year might have passed as they battled, but it could not have been so long. The sun had risen in the sky and turned the dark world red, but it was still close to the horizon when their strength finally gave out.

At the finish, Ulaz and Shiro knelt together, breathing hard. Ulaz looked from Shiro's knife to his own. All around them, the other Blades displayed various states of exhaustion. Many of them were still standing, but all of them had empty hands. Ulaz smiled at Shiro, and was rewarded with the sight of Shiro smiling in return. Shiro reached up to wipe sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Shiro's skin was purpled around his eye, and his lip was split and oozing. Ulaz could smell his blood on the air.

Kolivan removed his mask. "You are wed," he intoned.

Shiro had enough strength remaining to lean forward and press his mouth to Ulaz's in a human kiss. Ulaz could taste his blood as well as smell it, along with his sweat. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, all the Blades were unmasked. They converged on Shiro and Ulaz again, but this time, their intent was to help the newly wed couple to their feet. Kolivan offered his hand to Ulaz, and Keith put a hand on Shiro's shoulder. Ulaz could feel the closeness of friends' embraces, and he saw their smiles. He heard their laughter and congratulatory words, and he knew that the battle was finished—but also, that a new endeavor had begun. Ulaz kissed Shiro again. Their guests vocalized their approval.

"And people say human weddings are a pain," said Shiro, when they drew apart.

Ulaz expected remarks of this kind from him. He enjoyed Shiro's odd jokes. He had a tendency to utter them in serious moments, and Ulaz knew it was a sign of fondness. "I am looking forward to our human wedding."

"So am I. It's going to hurt a lot less, for one thing." 

The two of them had decided to combine their cultures, not by attempting to create a bewildering hybrid between the two species' rituals, but by engaging in two separate ceremonies. This one had been accessible to Galra only, as that was their tradition, but the list of guests for their second wedding was going to be much longer. "I hope you are looking forward to your Galra 'bachelor party'," said Ulaz.

"Wait—is that actually a real thing?"

"You will have to wait and see."

"All right." Shiro laughed, before adding, "To answer your question, I _am_ looking forward to it. I'm looking forward to everything."

Ulaz took his hand. Now, it was time for their former opponents to let them go. They would leave alone, together, as they had arrived. There would be no one along the way to assist them. This was the tradition, but now they could speak. They could offer each other comfort.

"Except maybe speaking to the press again," mused Shiro. "That, I'm not excited about."

"We can speak to them together," Ulaz offered. 

"I'd like that. You know what else I'd like?"

"What is that?"

"A bath."

"We can arrange a bath," said Ulaz.

"Thank you." Shiro began his slow descent down the steep side of the mesa. "Where would I be without you?"

"In the same place I would be without you," said Ulaz. "So I am glad we are in the same place together, husband." Ulaz was half-sure his ears caught the faint sound of Keith saying _mushy_ , but if there was a proper day to show affection, then it was today.


End file.
